I'm going to try to write about my Bonnaroo experience in chronological order so you can get the feel of what really happened, but it's kind of a jumbled mess, so I don't know how that will work out. We'll see how it goes.
First of all, you should know that I made my way to Bonnaroo with my new friend Britney from Birmingham. I met her through a forum on the Bonnaroo site called "Ridefinder." Yes, crazy that I would just jump into the car with a complete stranger, but we did meet and have lunch the Monday before we left and agreed that we both weren't totally psycho. I actually got a bit of a lecture from a co-worker this morning about how crazy it was that I would do that, but whatev. It could have been risky, but the whole "Ridefinder" experience worked out great for me. Britney said that she did have some loonies contact her about getting a ride, and I think we saw a hitchhiker or two along the way, but we had a great time together.
When we departed from Birmingham, we actually took the wrong route for about 45 minutes--oops--but we got it straightened out after Britney called a friend to figure out the correct directions. We cruised along, talked about Perez and her mom called her several times--cute, right?
We stopped at this gas station along the way to pick up Red Bulls and to run to the bathroom, and I saw one of the weirdest things ever when we walked into the gas station. The cashier, who was an older woman, was sitting behind the counter and was smoking. Smoking. For real. I guess I'm so used to the Lincoln smoking ban that whenever I see someone smoking indoors, I about have a heart attack. Anyway. That lady didn't seem to like me much.
So, I got an e-mail before I left from the people who were in charge of organizing the press check-in for Bonnaroo, and from the appearance of the e-mail, I was supposed to pick up my press credentials at one location--a hotel--and pick up my tickets from a will-call location--a radio station. So we took the long, complicated route to the Holiday Inn--we had to chase a radio station van to make sure we were going the right way--that was meant to help us avoid all the traffic congestion in Manchester. When we got there, I was so excited. I went and stood in line, and when I got to the front, I handed a volunteer my e-mail confirmation and my driver's license. After that, he walked off and asked another volunteer some questions. The confused-looking pair whispered to each other behind the press check-in table, and they finally told me that I was not on the list. Uh. Not exactly what I wanted to hear. I believe I was thinking, "No. No. No. No. No. No," over and over in my head at this point. They assured me, however, that I could pick everything up at the radio station. Britney and I rode around trying to find the radio station, had to stop to ask someone where it was, type the address into the GPS and we still struggled to find it. Turns out the radio station was located in some nondescript building that we found only when the GPS wouldn't stop beeping to us that we had found our location. Long story short, I got my stuff. Sigh of relief.
Then we were off to the campgrounds. After we'd been waiting in line for awhile, I realized I really had to go to the bathroom. Yikes. I kept getting ready to jump out of the car and run into the bushes to do my thing, but then the line of traffic would move forward. I'm pretty sure Britney thought I was going to pee in her car or something. I shouldn't have drank that energy drink so fast. Ha ha. We had some friendly neighbors in line with us to get into the campgrounds. One group of neighbors that stood out in particular was a crew of men in a camouflage truck--some good 'ol boys just enjoying the night, a few of them sitting in the bed of the truck on top of their cooler, chugging their beer, havin' a down-home good time. They kept looking at Britney and me all weird, but it turns out they were waiting for their opportunity to pull this gem out for us: "Hey ladies. We don't mean to be rude or nothin', but the truth is ... y'all are HOT!" Ha ha. Nice.
We finally made it into the campgrounds, and I wandered off to go find a place to pee. The only place that seemed suitable was right next to an empty road. All was going well. Until a car snuck up on me. I yanked my pants up as quick as I could and ran the other way, but I still think I may have flashed them. Oops.
Then Britney and I began our quest to move our stuff over to the campground where her friends were waiting with an RV. We waited around for a little taxi to take us from one location to another--we had to do this twice--and by the time we got everything moved and did a horrible job of setting up our tent, we decided just to hit the hay. So I missed out on the music Thursday night, but I decided I needed to rest up for what was to come.
And now, I'm taking a break to read some Perez.
0 comments:
Post a Comment